


Distant Cousins, on my Sentient-Tentacle Mother’s side

by Bi_Druid



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Gen, Harrison and Quartermaster have some weird family, Harrison’s 15, Magic, Quartermaster does some occult freaky shit, Whats new?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bi_Druid/pseuds/Bi_Druid
Summary: Harrison’s walk in the woods, turns into some weird realisations about his family tree
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Distant Cousins, on my Sentient-Tentacle Mother’s side

_ The Octopus Incident _ , as Harrison had so lovingly named it, was the first clue that Quartermaster and him weren’t all too different.

Of course, the 12 year old had been so freaked out afterwards, so the realisation of what the  _ incident _ implied, would only come later in life, after  _ The Tree Incident _ .

At his 3rd year of summer camp, when the space octopus was nothing but a foggy memory, Harrison had been unable to fall asleep one night.

This was by no means an uncommon occurrence. Between nightmares, hot humid evenings, snoring roommates, and pent up magical energy, it was a wonder that Harrison managed to fall asleep most nights.

Harrison hoped that maybe an evening walk would clear his mind. Tip-toeing past his roommate, who somehow even managed to look dramatic in his sleep, he slipped out of the tent.

The night air was cool, a calm breeze blowing gently through Harrison's hair. He could have sworn there was something unnatural, almost  _ magical _ , in the wind that night, but he dismissed it.

He walked through the forest, his white gloves brushing against the tree stumps. Walks always helped him relax, calm down the storm that was his mind. 

But, something was  _ different _ that night

It started with harsh whispers in his ear, the sounds spreading around his body. Then, the sounds vibrating in his head and under his skins turned to a strong tug, dragging him deeper into the forest. The deeper he went, the stronger the voices got.

The wind, which had drastically picked up, seemed to be at its worst in a dark, little forest clearing. Cool and harsh air whipped and lashed harshly against Harrison’s face, though he hardly noticed it. He was more focused on the peculiar scene he had stumbled upon.

In the middle of the forest, standing in front of an unusually dark and deformed tree, stood Quartermaster. He had a worn book in his hands, an occult symbol on its cover, and was trying to read the text in some foreign text. 

Key word being trying

“What… are you doing?” inquired Harrison, caving to his curiosity. Quartermaster stopped reading, eyes snapping harshly up at the 15 year old.

“Your magic kid, right?” asked Quartermaster, completely ignoring his question. Harrison nodded, and the hooked man pushed the book into the boy's hand. “Read,” demanded Quartermaster, pointing to a page.

Looking down, Harrison could clearly see that the text wasn’t in English. Hell, it didn’t even use the alphabet, instead opting for strange, squigly, symbols. By all logic, Harrison shouldn’t have been able to read this. 

_ And yet _ , the harder he stared at it, the more it began to make sense. The squiggles suddenly made sounds as he glanced over them, every line he skimmed over making his fingers prickle in an oh-so familiar, magical way.

He saw the words in the text, could hear how to pronounce them, even if he didn’t know the meaning behind them. Taking a deep breath, he started reading;  _ “Fram'latgh mogvulgtmoth, menegepmogvulgtlagln law'shuggor. Ha' magah'ehye bassk panh'ngalui n'gahftorog fram'latghorr, magah'ehye it-” _

Suddenly, a loud crackling sound was heard. Gazing up from the book, Harrison saw the tall, dark tree in front of him had caught on fire. It burned in brilliant purple flames, and a red clear liquid oozed out of it.

“Good work kid,” grumbled Quartermaster, collecting the liquid from the burning tree in a bucket, “you exorcised the demon tree.”

“The demon  _ what- _ never mind. How did I even manage to read that? It wasn’t English, and the only other language I speak is broken French.”

“The language is in your blood kid,” replied Quartermaster, gathering the last of the liquid from the ruined tree, “night.”

Quartermaster rushed off quickly, leaving all of Harrison’s multiple questions unanswered. Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep that night.

  
  


“You look like shit,” stated Nerris, as Harrison slid down next to her. While they still bickered and squabbled, with some help from Preston, they had gotten better along over the years.

“I feel worse,” groaned Harrison, burying his face in his gloves, “I didn’t get any sleep last night, thanks to Quartermaster.”

“Quartermaster?” echoed Preston, “what horrendous, unspeakable offenses did he commit this time?”

“He was up in the middle of the night doing… whatever it is he does. To make a long story short, I exorcised a demon tree, and found out I could understand a language I’ve never even seen before.”

“Maybe it’s related to your magic,” said Nerris, chewing a piece of toast, “we’ve all seen you do a lot of weird shit accidentally before. Probably best to ignore it, quests and Quartermaster are words that should never mix.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for best,” mumbled Harrison, though deep down, he knew he couldn’t forget about it that quickly.

  
  
  


The next evening, when the forest was basked in a warm sunset glow, Harrison found himself hesitantly walking towards Quartermasters shed. Though his friends had advised against it, Harrison just had too many burning questions.

The wooden shack, though small, loomed like a skyscraper over the teen. The door creaked loudly, as he gently pushed it open.

”What are you doing here boy?” exclaimed Quartermaster, making Harrison jump. The elder was in the middle of polishing one of his hooks, snacking on one of his pickled ‘delicacies.’

“I-I just had some qu-questions about yesterday,” stammered Harrison, lifting his hands in the air. Quartermaster grumbled something inconnsehembrible, though Harrison was pretty sure he caught the words  _ “trespassers”  _ and  _ “tortured.”  _

“If you’re worried about the demon tree infestation, it’s been taken care of. I’ve already purged all the nearby trees.” said Quartermaster, slamming the door to the shack. A bucket of fisheyes dropped on the floor from the impact, making Harrison jump backwards. 

“Actually, I was wondering about the book,” explained Harrison, trying to take a seat on a three legged chair, “what language was it in? How could I read it?”

“Obviously that was Castarodian,” states Quartermaster, “what are they teaching you kids in school nowadays…”

“Castarodian?”

“The language of our parents,” informed Quartermaster, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Upon seeing the confused look on the younger face, he elaborated; “not your earthly, fleshy, human parents, your Astral parents.” 

This bit of information did not help Harrison at all. He was reduced to a stammering state, repeating the new words while leaving against a moulding shelf. Eventually, after Quartermaster had managed to polish all his hooks, Harrison composed himself enough to form words. “My… Astral parents? Wait… you said our parents, does that mean we’re related?”

Quartermaster, who had by now pulled out a book titled _Deus Ex Machina_ , looked annoyedly at the magician. “Yes. Astral parents, like Xemug and The World Worm. The ones responsible for your magic and Castarodian, my immortality, and for our shared suffering. We’re distant cousins _at best_.”

Harrison piped up at the word  _ magic _ . ”So… you know how my powers work?” hope was laced in his voice, as he may finally get the answers to a question that had been plaguing him since he was an infant. 

For as much as Harrison loved the sparks, the joy, the performance, living with an uncontrollable force could be hell. His relationship with magic was like a wild, toxic fight for control, with the unstoppable force of fire always seeming to be winning. Nowadays, Harrison was seldom completely in control over his own body.

Quartermaster shook his head, “being able to survive three-headed snakes, and being able to explode said snakes heads off with the snap of your fingers are very different powers, boy.” 

Harrison deflated, slightly. “Oh… I hadn’t really thought about that…”

“‘course you hadn’t” 

“I guess I should just, pop out now,” muttered Harrison, fiddling with a ball made out of steel-wire, “Preston, Nerris, and David are probably wondering where I am.”

“Wait, skittish boy” yelled Quartermaster, making Harrison jump and flinch once again. “I might not be able to train you, but there’s nothing better for training Astral powers than a little bit of apocalypse stopping-“

“Wait,  _ apocalypse?” _

“- and considering my last assistant died to flamethrower-wielding, satanic nuns, the arcane arts might prove useful.”

Harrison paused at the door frame, briefly catching the glimpse of Nerris and Preston running towards him. He considered the offer carefully, probably more so than when the first time around.

On one hand, this was practically suicide. Quartermasters missions were dangerous, reckless, and included soul analysing octopuses last time he went on one. He had enough self respect and pressorvation to realise this was a bad idea.

_ But,  _ there was something about the idea of real adventure, involving magic, that got his blood pumping. Even 3 years later, Harrison could still remember clear as day the weight of the sword in his hand, the sounds of the moon splitting up, the sheer  _ excitement  _ and energy beaming out of his hands, his magic free and wild for once.

Plus, this might be his only chance to train his magic. He still hadn’t forgotten the goal he came to this run-down camp for. What kind of a person would he be if he didn’t do everything to help his lost brother?

Slowly, and with a small dose of self-hatred, Harrison nodded. His fingers warmed and itched in anticipation, subconsciously motioning. Wordlessly, he exited the cabin, and walked towards his two friends.

Nerris and Preston shared a look. “What were you doing at Quartermasters?” asked Nerris.

Harrison sighed, “making either the dumbest, or greatest decision of my life

**Author's Note:**

> ...I honestly don’t know why I wrote this...
> 
> Quartermoon divergence is one of my favourite episodes, and I suddenly had the urge to write a fan fiction based on it. Maybe I’ll write a follow up, who knows
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and hope you enjoyed (:


End file.
